There is something in the air of December
That is detestable
A sort of formidable kindness
That forces the muscles to
Contract and r e l e a s e
Desperately grasping at
Any sliver of comfort
Any hope of fertility or sanctity
In the raw, violating, relentless winds
Carrying the scent of corrosive prayer and conditional bliss.
That is detestable
A sort of formidable kindness
That forces the muscles to
Contract and r e l e a s e
Desperately grasping at
Any sliver of comfort
Any hope of fertility or sanctity
In the raw, violating, relentless winds
Carrying the scent of corrosive prayer and conditional bliss.
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